


i’m on my way to believing

by AgentBuzzkill



Category: The Phoenix Incident (2015)
Genre: A mountain of pining, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake Marriage, Fellas is it gay to pretend to be married to your best bro to get back at your cheating ex, Is it also gay to hook up with him after that and confess your love, M/M, Mutual Pining, just so much pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 14:39:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18671725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentBuzzkill/pseuds/AgentBuzzkill
Summary: “I could go with you,” Jake repeats, deflating just slightly as he hunches over the table and grabs his own drink. “You know. If...If you’d want. So you don’t have to go alone.”Mitch blinks.“You’ve just been complaining this whole time about how hard it is to find a date,” Jake continues. “So uh. I could be your date.”“Like a real date?” Glenn asks. “Or…”“It doesn’t have to be,” Jake quickly cuts in. “Just, you know. Uh. We could pretend? To really stick it to Ryan and Melissa with how um. Happy? You are?”





	i’m on my way to believing

**Author's Note:**

> So the longest fic I've written in literal years is also for a film that's become a meme among a group of people in a Widofjord discord. 
> 
> This is our Rocky Horror and it is also apparently the hill on which I am dying.
> 
> Big big big thanks to Ama, Green, Lizzy, Fean, Emeel, Hatzy, and everyone else who's made the past month of my life one of the best I've ever had in a fandom. You're all amazing. 
> 
> If whoever runs the TPI Twitter sees this (though I pray you do not and if you are here please leave now), thank you for all the pictures of the dogs.

The invitation feels so much worse than a slap in the face. It’s more of a punch to the gut. Or a kick in the teeth.

Apparently Mitch’s presence is humbly requested at the celebration of the union between Ryan Stone and Melissa Henessey. Six months from now. In Los Angeles. 

Fucking perfect. 

His first instinct is to tear the offending piece of cardstock in half (it’s the heavy expensive shit because of course Melissa would want to spring for that and of course it’s embossed in fucking gold and  _ of course  _ he’d be invited to this because inviting the guy you cheated on to your wedding with his best friend made all the goddamn sense in the world), but he gives in to his second instinct and makes himself a drink. Then another. And another. And another for good measure.

After that the night is...admittedly hazy. TGIF, at least. 

Annoying hangover aside, when he comes to on his couch the next morning and wanders in to the kitchen the invitation is still sitting on the counter.   


Mitch doesn’t want to admit why he can’t bring himself to throw it away or burn it or send it back to LA with a note humbly requesting that Ryan shove it up his ass, but every time he picks it up he just ends up staring for a moment before setting it back down.

After all this time he’s still worried about disappointing Melissa. Old habits really do die hard. 

He’s able to shove it to the back of his mind and ignore the thing for a while. Until Glenn sees it, of course.

“Dude,” he says, picking up the invitation. “What the fuck is this?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” Mitch replies, mouth half-full of pizza.

“You’re not...I mean, you’re not  _ going,  _ right?” 

“Haven’t sent back the RSVP thing yet.”

“Yet?” Glenn sounds incredulous and Mitch can’t really blame him.

“It’s...complicated.”

“Uh, yeah,” Glenn says before setting the invitation down. “Your ex girlfriend and your ex best friend want you to come to their wedding. Which is such a bad idea for so many reasons.”

Mitch is silent for a moment and he must be more predictable than he thought because Glenn looks disappointed before Mitch even opens his mouth. 

“Melissa-”

“Wants you there for her own guilty conscience,” Glenn interrupts. “She wants you to show up and be totally fine so  _ she  _ can feel totally fine.”

“Since when did you become a therapist?” Mitch asks.

“People like emotional intelligence,” Glenn replies and Mitch can’t help but laugh.

“So you’re really going?” Glenn asks and Mitch’s smile fades fast. 

“I dunno,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Feels like I should. You know...prove that I’m doing fine.”

“And are you doing fine?”

They both look around. Mitch’s apartment has definitely devolved into the bachelor pad it had once been before Melissa moved in. 

“I’m managing,” Mitch says as he eyes the precarious stack of pizza boxes in the corner of the room. He’s been meaning to take those out for several weeks. He’ll get around to it. Maybe. Probably. Eventually. 

“So your plan right now is to show up to the wedding alone, trying not to be sad?” To Glenn’s credit he could definitely sound a lot less sympathetic, but he definitely doesn’t sound impressed. 

“The plan is a work in progress,” Mitch replies. “I’ve got time. I’ll get a plus one.” 

“So...you’re ready to move on?” Glenn asks and just the thought makes Mitch anxious. 

“Maybe,” he answers quickly, probably too quickly if he’s being honest with himself. “I could try. For this, at least.”

Glenn looks as doubtful as ever, but he drops the subject. Mitch has always appreciated his ability to read a room. 

The plan to get a plus one for the wedding is...hazy at best. Mitch hasn’t done the dating thing in a while, and he’s pretty positive he isn’t ready for anything serious. But a wedding is a bit intense for a first date. And besides, he needs something more convincing if he’s going to shove his (manufactured) happiness in Melissa’s face. 

He’s never been the vindictive type before. Maybe getting cheated on had something to do with that. 

With a barely-there plan in mind, Mitch fills out the RSVP card and marks down that he’ll be bringing a plus one. 

Okay, so he’s doing this.

 

* * *

 

Okay, so he planned on doing this. He really did. 

Dating is hard.

Six months becomes three. Three months becomes one. Suddenly Mitch is staring down at the wedding just seven days away and he  _ still  _ hasn’t made any headway on finding a plus one. 

Every time he sits down to do it; sets up an online dating profile and goes through the trouble of finding the best pictures of himself and entering in bios and answering questions, he finds himself getting cold feet. He doesn’t feel ready yet, to start with someone at square one. Every face, either online or out at a bar, blurs together and they’re all strangers and Mitch just wishes he had a friend he could easily fall in love with. 

“I could go with you,” he hears someone say and Mitch looks up from the bottle of beer he’d been picking the label off of.

Jake is looking at him, mouth set in a determined line, and Glenn is looking at Jake with a look that could only be described as bemused surprise. 

“What?” Mitch asks, half because he truly hadn’t been listening over his own thoughts and the sounds of the bar around them and half because he couldn’t believe what he had heard. 

“I could go with you,” Jake repeats, deflating just slightly as he hunches over the table and grabs his own drink. “You know. If...If you’d want. So you don’t have to go alone.”

Mitch blinks.

“You’ve just been complaining this whole time about how hard it is to find a date,” Jake continues. “So uh. I could be your date.”

“Like a real date?” Glenn asks. “Or…”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Jake quickly cuts in. “Just, you know. Uh. We could pretend? To really stick it to Ryan and Melissa with how um. Happy? You are?”

Jake is starting to sound less and less sure of himself and Mitch is just trying to process everything that is being said and the silence between them stretches on long enough that Jake looks about three seconds away from bolting before Glenn pipes up.

“It would be kinda fun,” he says with a grin. “Could you imagine the looks on their faces when you two show up together? Plus now there’s no need to try to find someone you don’t know. You guys can show up and eat some good food and get plastered and prove to Melissa that you’ve totally moved on.”

Mitch is going to blame it on the beer later, but he’s beginning to think that this plan could conceivably work. He’ll also blame it quite a bit on Glenn too.

Jake is still looking nervous, but he relaxes a bit when Mitch smiles.

“It sounds dumb as hell, let’s do it.”

 

* * *

 

The drive to California is much more enjoyable than Mitch expected it to be. Jake definitely helps with that. He comes to Mitch’s place the day they’re set to leave, armed with his suitcase and a bag of snacks and plenty of playlists on his phone. 

Traffic stretches their trip out for longer than Mitch expected, but even that doesn’t seem to phase him. Jake is in his passenger seat, feet up on the dashboard, framed in golden light from the sunset behind him. It’s almost a shame when the sun finally does go down, but Jake framed in the lights of the city is almost as pretty.

Pretty? Mitch shakes his head. That was a weird thought to have.

Anyway. 

They finally arrive at their hotel. Mitch grabs their bags, insisting on taking Jake’s too, and heads to the front desk to check them in. 

“Adams?” the woman behind the desk confirms after Mitch gives her his name, typing on her keyboard. “You have a reservation for a room with one king bed?”

Oh. Shit. 

“Uh,” he says, unsure of what to say as she looks at him expectantly. Would Jake be okay with that? Should he try to get a room with two beds? It wasn’t as if the two of them hadn’t passed out together after a bender or two, but at the same time...he should ask Jake, right?

Mitch glances around, but Jake is nowhere to be found. 

“I. Um.” He turns back to the woman. “Yes! Yeah. That uh. That works.”

She looks a little doubtful as she types a few more things. A brochure of sights to see in the city is handed to him, with a list of hotel amenities and two room keys. 

“Well, let me know if there is a problem with the room,” she says with a pleasant customer service smile. “We’ll be happy to help.”

Mitch nods, taking the stack of papers and keys from her. As if on cue Jake appears at his side, sipping on a coke.

“Sorry,” he says. “Needed to scope out a vending machine. We good to go?”

“Yeah,” Mitch says quickly, handing Jake a room key. “We’re uh. On the fifth floor.”

“Sweet.” 

Mitch goes to grab their bags again, but Jake snatches them up.

“You worry about keeping our suits nice,” he says, nodding to the garment bags in Mitch’s arm. “I got these.”

They make their way to the elevator and head up to their room. It’s definitely not the worst hotel Mitch has been in. Everything is neat and clean, with the kind of bland, inoffensive interior decorating that most hotels had. 

And, as promised, one bed stands in the middle of the room. 

“I call little spoon,” Jake says, setting their bags down at the foot of the bed before turning and flopping down onto the covers. A contented sigh leaves him, and Mitch is just relieved that the single bed doesn’t seem to be an issue.

“No fair,” he replies, hanging their garment bags up in the small closet right next to the door. “What if I wanted to be little spoon?”

“We’re here for two nights aren’t we?” 

Mitch closes the closet doors and turns back to Jake, who’s now sitting up on the bed and has apparently found the TV remote. He starts flipping through channels.

“I get to be little spoon tonight, you get to be little spoon tomorrow,” Jake says and Mitch grins. 

Even if he knows Jake is kidding...it’s not an unappealing idea.

“Deal.”

He turns his back as Jake changes into an old shirt and sweatpants, and Jake does the same when Mitch takes off his shirt and exchanges his jeans for a pair of sleep pants he definitely hasn’t worn in a long time. He hates to sleep in anything but boxers, but...with a roommate he also figured that probably wouldn’t be alright. The pants are a little tighter than he’d like but they’ll do. They set about on their own bedtime routines, moving easily around each other and there’s a strange comfort for Mitch in having someone to have to move around again. To have someone in his space he needs to be cognizant of, a presence in the room that makes him feel less alone. 

He’s glad, he thinks as he and Jake brush their teeth in front of the double sinks in their bathroom, that Jake wanted to do this with him. 

If he was alone he definitely would have chickened out and been halfway back to Phoenix right now. There anxiety that has been sitting in his gut since he sent that RSVP card back in the mail hasn’t lessened at all. If anything it’s only grown, becoming a persistent worry in the back of his mind as he realizes that tomorrow really is the wedding. And he really is going. 

And, for whatever reason, Jake has decided to go with him. And pretend to be his boyfriend.

Mitch stares at himself in the mirror and wonders how his life got to this point.

“Hey,” Jake says, waving a hand between the mirror and Mitch’s eyes, bringing him back down to earth. “You okay?”

Mitch blinks a few times, glances at Jake in the mirror before bending down and spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Yeah,” he says, turning on the faucet to wash out his mouth. “Totally fine.”

Maybe the only upside to the wedding anxiety was that it somehow managed to dwarf the bed anxiety. Jake is already curled up under the covers when Mitch finally leaves the bathroom. Mitch turns off the lights in the room as he makes his way to the bed, slipping under the covers before switching off the bedside lamp on his side and then the room is dark. 

And Jake is in bed with him. 

Mitch turns, laying with his back to Jake, and even if the size of the bed means there’s plenty of space between them Mitch finds himself wishing that wasn’t the case. 

He wonders, idly, what it would be like to take Jake into his arms. Mitch always was a bit of a cuddler, and thankfully Melissa had always been okay with that, but even if Mitch has gotten used to sleeping alone again he misses having someone else there. 

He falls into an uneasy sleep, pulling the covers around himself just a bit tighter, resisting the urge to turn around and reach out.

 

* * *

 

Mitch wakes to sunshine peeking through a crack in their curtains, a bright strip of light that runs right across the room and into his eyes. He blinks, wanting to turn around and go back to sleep, before becoming aware of three things in a split second. 

One: At some point in the night he did indeed turn to face Jake.

Two: Jake is curled up against his chest, one leg firmly slotted between Mitch’s, and Mitch has an arm around Jake.

Three: Jake, for lack of a better term, is sporting an impressive morning wood. And it is currently pressed against Mitch’s thigh.

Mitch is wide awake now.

Jake is snoring softly, breath coming out in warm little puffs against Mitch’s skin. Mitch can feel the scratch of stubble as Jake nuzzles a little closer into him and Jake’s leg between his moves and Mitch is completely frozen. 

He needs to get up. He needs to save them both the embarrassment of Jake waking up in this position because Jake will probably apologize and admit he didn’t mean to do that or say that he’d never want to do that with him and Mitch can’t stand to hear that right now. 

But, because Mitch has always had a small selfish streak hiding deep inside, he lets himself enjoy the sensation if only for a few moments. He takes in the sight of Jake, his face slack and soft with sleep, his mussed hair and long eyelashes, how warm and real and  _ right  _ he feels in Mitch’s arms. 

He’s about to finally make a move, but just as Mitch begins to shift and try to think of a way to extricate himself from Jake without waking him up, Jake stirs in his sleep. His brow furrows just a bit and Mitch can feel tension beginning to return to his body as he starts to wake up, and in a split second of panic Mitch shuts his eyes and tries to slow his breathing. 

He doesn’t know if Jake buys his attempt at pretending to still be asleep, considering his eyes are now closed and he can’t see Jake anymore, but he definitely feels Jake tense up quite a bit as he takes in their position. Unlike Mitch, Jake seems to have no qualms about quickly slipping out of Mitch’s arms and out of the bed. 

Mitch hears the hurried patter of Jake’s footsteps and the light slam of the bathroom door closing. A few moments later, the shower starts up. 

Mitch opens his eyes, staring at Jake’s pillow, and tries not to feel like he’s lost something important. 

By the time Jake comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered and clutching a towel around his waist, Mitch is sitting up in bed and scrolling through his phone. He glances up for just a moment and catches the sight of a bead of water making its way down Jake’s chest before quickly looking back down.

“Morning,” Jake says and Mitch agrees.

“Morning.”

They have a bit of time to kill before getting ready for the wedding, but even as Mitch flips through the brochure of popular attractions in the city, he doesn’t feel much like going anywhere. Luckily, Jake doesn’t seem to mind. They spend the rest of the morning ordering room service and flipping through daytime TV, settling on a soap opera Mitch has never seen before but that is very, very easy to make fun of. 

“It’s bullshit,” Jake says from where he’s sitting on the end of the bed, pointing at the TV with his cereal spoon. “Why would they break up? That makes no sense.” 

“I think they just found out they’re cousins,” Mitch says, taking a sip of coffee. “The guy who was dead but now isn’t said so.”

“Wait, wasn’t he in a coma?”

“I don’t think so. But someone is probably in a coma.”

Any residual awkwardness from the morning seems to dissipate the longer they hang out, and Mitch couldn’t be more grateful for that. They’ve been friends for so long, finding a comfortable groove has become easy for them. 

But the starting time for the wedding creeps closer and closer, until Mitch is unable to put off getting ready for it. 

His shower is a bit longer than normal, if only because he needs to stand under the hot spray and force himself to fucking relax. 

_ You’re gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be fine. You get to walk in there with Jake and you’ll prove that you’re so damn happy. Happier than you’ve ever been.  _

The urge to curl up on the shower floor is definitely there, but Mitch resolutely ignores it in favor of washing his hair instead. 

Focusing on grooming takes his mind off the wedding, if only because he doesn’t want to show up with a dozen cuts all over his face and neck from shaving with nervous hands. He stares at himself in the mirror one more time, face fresh and hair done. 

_ Jake’s gonna be with you the whole time. You’re gonna be fine. _

Jake is already dressed by the time Mitch comes out of the bathroom, adjusting his tie in a mirror hanging on the wall next to their bed. The curtains have been pulled back, afternoon light flooding into their room and as Jake turns to smile at him it almost takes Mitch’s breath away. 

Walking into the wedding with Jake on his arm is definitely going to be fun. 

Mitch dresses himself quickly, smoothing down his slacks and collared shirt in front of the mirror as Jake watches him from an armchair in the corner of the room behind him. It’s been a while since he had an occasion to get dressed up. He probably hasn’t pulled his suit out since Mark’s funeral and--

_ No. Bad road to go down. Stop that thought right there. _

Mitch fumbles with his tie, trying to remember the right way to tie it. He should know this. He knows he’s done it before but he can’t seem to get it quite right and now it’s getting wrinkled and shit, maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn’t do this. It isn’t too late to just not show up--

He feels hands on his shoulders and realizes that Jake is gently trying to turn him around. He lets it happen, looking down as Jake smiles reassuringly up at him.

“Hey,” he says, taking Mitch’s tie in his hands. “Just breathe. You’re gonna be okay.”

Mitch nods and Jake carefully ties his tie, pulling the knot tight and making sure it’s laying straight. Jake’s gaze shifts from the tie in his hands, to Mitch’s face, then back down to the tie.

“Your, uh. Cologne,” he says before clearing his throat. “I like it.”

“Oh,” Mitch says, the compliment catching him a little off-guard. After the initial surprise, a pleasant warmth runs through him. “Thanks. Think Glenn got it for me. I don’t wear it much.”

Jake bites his bottom lip, letting go of Mitch’s tie and stepping back. He smiles again, but there’s something else in his expression Mitch can’t put his finger on.

“The ladies will be all over you,” Jake says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and Mitch gives an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“Like it matters. I’m taken, remember?”

Jake glances out the window and is he blushing? Must be the heat. It’s a little warm in their room. Maybe. Mitch can go ahead and blame it on that. 

“Yeah,” Jake looks back at Mitch and gives a tentative smile. “You really wanna stick with that story?”

“Of course,” Mitch says, maybe a little too quickly but luckily Jake doesn’t comment on it. “Everyone will be jealous. Not only did I move on from Melissa, I  _ upgraded _ .”

Jake stifles a laugh, looking away again but there’s an ease to his posture that wasn’t there before and he looks genuinely happy. It feels like a victory. 

They both shrug on their suit jackets then, making any last touch ups needed before heading out the door. As they’re leaving the elevator, Mitch holds out his arm. Jake looks a bit surprised, but he takes the offered arm and it feels...oddly  _ right _ . Jake fits perfectly against Mitch’s side as they walk together, and even if Mitch tells himself he’s just doing it to be a gentleman and really sell the story that they’re together, that selfish little bit of him just wants to keep Jake this close to him for as long as he can. 

 

* * *

 

The ceremony is as awful as Mitch expected.

Awful, in this case, meaning it is beautiful and perfect and Melissa looks like an angel as she walks down the aisle to Ryan. Mitch had thought he was prepared, but hearing the woman he’d considered proposing to at one point vowing to love and care for another hurts more than he could have ever expected. 

Halfway through the ceremony Jake takes his arm and gives it a sympathetic squeeze. The mood between them feels more like that of a funeral than a wedding, even in the back of the church Mitch feels that they stick out like sore thumbs. Two somber faces in a crowd of joy.

Melissa and Ryan are declared man and wife. They kiss, and Mitch does his best to smile and clap.

Mitch has the sneaking suspicion, as they make their way from the ceremony to the hall in the hotel where the reception will be, that Melissa’s parents have paid for most of the evening. Everything is very much to their tastes, which mostly consisted of stuffy and elegant. Melissa had waxed poetic to him before on her dream of a fairy tale wedding and Mitch had agonized over how he would give her that. Apparently it was a worry he shouldn’t have entertained for several reasons. 

The ballroom for the reception is as beautiful as the rest of the hotel--high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, marble floors. A stately wedding cake stands in the middle of the room, tiers stretching to the sky and adorned with flowers. 

“Nice colors,” Jake points out as they enter the room, arm in arm. Apparently the colors of the wedding were different shades of pink and gold. Definitely a Melissa choice. At least Jake could appreciate them.

They find their assigned table, number 25 way in the back. Mitch couldn’t really complain. The further away they were from the happy couple the better.

“You might want to at least try to enjoy yourself,” Jake says as he sits down, taking the napkin on top of his plate and draping it over his lap. “Considering the whole point of coming here was to prove how happy and okay with this you are.”

Mitch fights the urge to scowl, focusing instead on a passing waiter with a tray full of glasses of wine. He grabs two, setting one down in front of Jake before taking his own seat. 

“You like white, right?” he asks Jake instead of acknowledging his previous statement. Jake, to his credit, only smiles and sips at his drink.

“I do. Thank you.”

The rest of the guests filter into the room, and soon they’re surrounded by a din of conversation over light music. Most are wandering around the room mingling and Mitch glances at Jake. Most of the people are strangers, barring a few of Melissa and Ryan’s close friends and family which, yikes. Mitch was not eager to talk to any of them. At least not until another glass or two of wine.

“If you, uh, want to go talk,” he says, sitting back in his chair and looking at Jake, “I don’t mind.”

Jake raises an eyebrow. “I think I know even fewer people here than you do.”

Mitch tries to not feel guilty about the awkward situation he’s dragged Jake into as he takes a sip of wine.

“It’s alright,” Jake says quickly. “I don’t mind. Just hanging out with you, that is.”

Mitch smiles, about to agree with Jake when he hears a voice behind him.

“Mitchell?”

_ Shit. _

He straightens in his chair, turning to see someone he’d planned on avoiding for most of the night.

Melissa’s mother is heading for their table, smiling wide, and Mitch is doing everything in his power to put on a pleasant face instead of revealing the terror he’s currently feeling.

“It’s been too long!” Diane cries, her arms open in clear anticipation of a hug, and Mitch can hear Jake stifle a laugh behind his hand as he stands to hug her. She’s a very small woman, he has to bend down considerably for her to be able to get her arms around his shoulders. 

“We’re so glad you came,” she continues after letting him go. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy, but I know Melissa appreciates you being here.”

Mitch nods, still focused on keeping the polite smile on his face. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “I uh. Didn’t expect the invitation. But I wouldn’t miss it.”

Diane’s smile is tinged with pity and Mitch really doesn’t want to hate her. Truly he doesn’t. She’s never been anything but nice to him, but in this moment all he really wants to do is tell her to fuck off.

“So did you come alone?” she says. “Melissa mentioned you planned on bringing someone-”

“I did,” Mitch interrupts, stepping aside a bit so she can see Jake, who’s turned around in his chair and is watching the conversation. He glances between Mitch and Diane and stands, extending a hand towards her.

“Oh,” Diane says, taking his hand and shaking it. “And who are you?”

“This is Jake,” Mitch says, placing a hand on Jake’s lower back. Their lie is right on the tip of his tongue, ready to come out. “My boyf-”

“Husband,” Jake talks over him with an emphatic shake of Diane’s hand. He lets go and quickly slots himself in closer at Mitch’s side, seemingly unaware of the massive anvil he’s just dropped on Mitch’s head.

Diane’s eyes widen, her gaze quickly darting between the two of them. 

“Husband?” she says, sounding more shocked than anything else. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Mitch says, his grip on Jake’s waist tightening just a bit as if he were trying to wordlessly ask  _ ‘what the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ _ . Jake, meanwhile looks perfectly calm next to him, a polite smile on his face. 

“That was fast,” Diane says and Jake  _ laughs _ , the fucker.

“Well, when you know you know,” he says, looking up at Mitch. “Right, dear?”

“Right,” Mitch says as he glances down at Jake, his smile definitely tighter than he means it to be before looking back to Diane.

“I’ll make sure to say hi to Melissa before the night is over. But you should go enjoy yourself.”

Diane nods, still looking nonplussed. 

“Yes. Enjoy your night, both of you.” 

She hurries off, probably to go begin spreading the news of Mitch’s apparent husband that he’s brought to this wedding and honestly, what the actual hell was going on in Mitch’s life that this is where he found himself?

Jake detaches himself from Mitch’s side and sits back down. He takes a very large sip of his wine.

“Would you like to explain,” Mitch says, his hands on the back of Jake’s chair, “what that was?”

Jake is quiet for a worryingly long amount of time. When he does answer, his voice is barely audible over the noise of the room around them.

“It just. Uh. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Mitch sits down in his own chair. Clearly this is a face-to-face conversation. At least it would be, if Jake would stop staring at the bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table and actually look at him.

“Jake,” Mitch tries again, softening his tone and Jake only seems to try to shrink further into his collared shirt. 

“I panicked,” he says quickly. “I thought it would sound better and I panicked and I’m sorry. We can go, I’ve ruined-”

“No, no,” Mitch interrupts. “We’re not gonna...we can’t go now.”

Jake seems hesitant to look at him, but he does.

“We can’t?”

And maybe it’s the trepidation in Jake’s eyes, the obvious fear that he’s fucked something up irreparably that Mitch needs to soothe. Maybe it’s the social obligations, knowing that coming all this way would be a waste of time if they left immediately and Mitch still hasn’t proven to Melissa that he’s totally fine and totally been able to move on--

And maybe, in some deep part of Mitch that’s tucked so far away he’s scared to dig it back up for fear of what could happen, Mitch just likes the idea of playing pretend. Of getting to live in a world where he’s married Jake for one night.

There are worse ways this wedding could go.

“It’ll look weird,” Mitch says, “if we just up and leave.”

Jake nods, still looking worried.

“So we’ll just, uh…” Mitch gives a little shrug. “Play the part, I guess.”

“Play the part,” Jake repeats in a flat voice.

“Of...husbands.”

Jake nods slowly. Takes another long sip of wine that drains his glass. He swallows hard, settling the glass down and looking at Mitch. The fear in his eyes is gone. 

“Yeah. Husbands.” 

Mitch smiles, and Jake’s smile in return is small and soft but still so bright and wow, yeah. There’s definitely feelings stirring in Mitch’s gut that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“So we should get our story straight,” Jake says and Mitch can’t help but laugh.

“I don’t think a damn thing about our story is  _ straight _ .”

Jake rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling as he sits back in his chair. Mitch follows, putting an arm around the back of Jake’s chair. 

“So I probably asked you out first,” Mitch says and Jake scoffs.

“Hardly. I definitely asked you.” 

“ _ You _ made the first move on  _ me _ ?”

“And that sounds so unrealistic? You needed someone to pull you out of your breakup rut.”

“Fair enough. But if you got to make the first move, I get to propose.”

Mitch blames the wine for the blush beginning to color Jake’s cheeks. It was only one glass, yeah, but...Jake’s always been a bit of a lightweight. Totally.

“Okay then,” Jake says. “How long did we date?”

Mitch has to run the months through his head, how long he would have been in a funk after the breakup and how many months after that they could have dated. 

“No amount of time I say is gonna make this sound like we didn’t have a shotgun wedding.”

Jake stifles a laugh with the back of his hand. “Well, luckily that’s not really a problem for us.”

“Five months?” Mitch suggests. “And we got married…”

“Two months ago,” Jake finishes. “In Vegas.”

“Ugh,” Mitch’s face screws up in confusion. “Please tell me that was your idea.”

“It’s Vegas. We were drunk and in love.” Jake shrugs, cheeks turning a little darker pink. “People do that.”

“Well  _ I  _ don’t do that,” Mitch says. “If we did this, we did this right.”

“Then please,” Jake says with a wave of his hand, “thrill me with the tale of how we got married.”

Mitch thinks for a moment. It’s easy to pull bits and pieces from the wedding he’d imagined having one day with Melissa. But at the same time...it feels like it needs to be unique. Jake deserves a good story, at least. And Mitch doesn’t have to examine the feeling of  _ want  _ deep in his gut that he’s been resolutely ignoring for so long anyway. Just keep that tucked away right where it is. No need to think of it any longer than he has to.

“I bought the ring after our first date,” he begins and Jake groans.

“You’re making us into Jim and Pam?” 

“They’re a textbook fuckin’ relationship,” Mitch says, probably just a tad more defensive than necessary. “Do you want the story or not?”

“Fine, fine,” Jake says and at least he’s still smiling. 

“As I was  _ saying _ ,” Mitch continues, “I bought the ring after our first date. Knew I wanted to propose but I was waiting for the right time. But we’ve known--knew each other long enough,” he looks away, reaching for his own wine after the slip-up he hopes Jake didn’t notice. 

“I think I took you out for a picnic in the desert on our four month anniversary. And I proposed at sunset. On bended knee and everything.”

He finishes his wine, setting the glass down and resolutely not looking at Jake.

“We planned a little ceremony. Just us. And probably Glenn, because we’d never hear the end of it if he didn’t get to be my best man.”

He glances at Jake then. Jake isn’t smiling anymore, which worries Mitch just a bit, but he doesn’t look angry. If anything he looks a bit distant, like he’s hearing Mitch but his mind is somewhere else.

“It was a courthouse wedding. We went out for dinner and drinks after. Nothing fancy, but it’s what we wanted.”

Jake is quiet for a bit before he seems to realize Mitch has stopped talking. He blinks, coming back to himself. 

“Yeah,” he says. It seems like he wants to say more, but he hesitates. Glances around. Stands abruptly. 

“I’ll um. Get us more wine.” 

He hurries off before Mitch can respond, and the sinking feeling in Mitch’s stomach tells him he might have fucked up.

 

* * *

 

They don’t get a chance to elaborate on the rest of the story of their relationship. After Jake returns with wine for both of them their table begins to fill up, and based on everyone’s introductions to each other they’ve gotten stuck at the table of everyone Ryan and Melissa thought wouldn’t come but invited anyway. There’s a friend of Melissa’s from high school who Mitch knows for a fact hasn’t talked to her in years. 

Dinner is brought to them and for a while, everyone seems too focused on eating to bother socializing. Mitch would be okay with that, except Jake hasn’t really been talking to him either and that bothers him more than it probably should. 

Did Jake not like the cover story Mitch had come up with? Maybe he wanted something a little more grand. More romance and dramatic confessions of love.

But if he was being honest with himself (which only happened after a bit of wine, of course) what Mitch had said was exactly what he wanted for them. At least, it was what he wanted for the Mitch and Jake who  _ did  _ end up falling in love and getting married. Something simple and sweet and easy to slip into. In a perfect world, everything between them would be effortless.

As dinner comes to a close the clinking of silverware against glass rings out from the front of the hall, and everyone turns to where Ryan is standing at the head table. He’s handed a microphone by a staff member for the hotel and gives a generic speech about love and commitment and thank-you-all-for-coming-have-a-great-night and Mitch could not be less interested. He claps when everyone else claps and waits for it to be time for cake. 

Jake, meanwhile, strikes up a conversation with the women sitting to his left. Mitch distantly recognizes one of them as Melissa’s cousin. An artist of some kind, who’d recently gotten engaged to her girlfriend the last time Melissa had mentioned her. He doesn’t have much to contribute to the conversation but he still listens in, putting his arm back around Jake’s chair. 

Jake is always more expressive when he talks about art. It’s one of the things Mitch has always noticed about him with a bit of fondness. There’s just something undeniably cute about the way he talks with his hands, how much he lights up when someone makes a point he agrees with. Jake has gone on art rants before, and while Ryan was never interested and Glenn tolerates them for only about five minutes at a time, Mitch thinks he could listen to Jake talk about what he loves all day. 

“And what about you?” Mitch distantly hears, coming back to earth when he realizes he’s being addressed. Melissa’s cousin is looking at him with a knowing smile. “The one who looks at him like he hung the moon?”

“Oh,” Mitch says, looking between the three of them. “I wasn’t-”

“He puts up with my interests,” Jake says smoothly, glancing back at Mitch with a fond smile. “But I don’t think he would be very interested in doing it himself.”

“What?” Mitch asks. There’s a part of the conversation he knows he missed. 

“Painting, dear,” Jake clarifies and Mitch’s heart leaps at the pet name. 

“Like me? Doing painting?” Mitch shakes his head. “No, I leave that to the expert.” 

“Every good artist needs a muse,” Melissa’s cousin says with a grin to Jake that seems almost conspiratorial. The blush on Jake’s face seems to return even as he looks back at Mitch. 

“Y-Yes,” he says, reaching to cover Mitch’s hand that rests on the table in front of them. There’s the slightest hesitation, but Mitch is more than happy to allow it to happen. He spreads his fingers out, letting Jake’s fingers intertwine with his. 

“I’ve certainly found mine,” Jake continues softly, blinking up at Mitch for just a moment more before looking back at the women. 

Their conversation returns to things that fly easily over Mitch’s head. Mitch doesn’t think he could pay attention if he tried, anyway. Almost all of his brain power is currently pointed to Jake’s hand in his and how nice it feels and how he wants to catalog every bit of this moment and store it away forever. It’ll be a nice memory to recall, the next time he lays awake and alone at night, wishing for someone to be there with him.

 

* * *

 

The first dance is announced, and everyone’s attention turns to Melissa and Ryan swaying together to a something sappy that Ryan recorded and god, of course their first dance was to one of his songs. Mitch spends a good part of it polishing off another glass of wine. He’s starting to feel good and buzzed now, a pleasant hum in his brain that makes him a little more relaxed. 

A dance for all the married couples is announced soon after that, and for a second Mitch is surprised when he feels Jake give his hand a little squeeze. 

Oh. That’s right. They’re married. 

“Shall we?” Jake asks, looking nervous again and Mitch just slips his hand out from under Jake’s. He stands, offering his arm instead, and Jake takes it with a shy smile.

If nothing else, the look on Melissa and Ryan’s faces when they notice Mitch and Jake making their way to the dance floor makes everything about this night and their lie worth it. 

Jake gives them a little wave, his friendly grin dangerously close to a shit-eating one, and Mitch makes sure Melissa sees him pull Jake a little closer.

Jake turns to face him, taking Mitch’s hand. They slot together perfectly, Mitch’s hand resting on Jake’s lower back as he begins to lead them in a little dance. It isn’t anything complex. Mitch would never consider himself a dancer by any means. But they sway together to the soft beat of a love song, and as Mitch looks down at Jake it’s easy to let the world around them melt away. Until it’s just the two of them.

Mitch wants to say something, but he can’t think of anything. All he can do is keep his eyes on Jake’s and it’s easy to sink down into a pleasant little fantasy. For a minute Mitch allows himself to live in a different world, where he and Jake are this close all the time. Where they really did fall in love. Where they go home together after this and sleep curled around each other and wake up to each other and Mitch never has to worry about a lonely night for the rest of his life because Jake is always there, always just an arm’s length away. And Mitch wants this future to be real so  _ badly _ , more than he’s ever wanted anything in his entire life. 

It would be so easy, he thinks, to lean in. Jake is right there. Mitch could press his lips to Jake’s, steal a quick kiss and blame it later on wanting to commit to their facade. He leans in, and he swears for a moment he sees Jake’s eyes flutter closed--

And Mitch presses their foreheads together, closing his own eyes. 

It’s abundantly clear to him, in that moment, why he hasn’t wanted to move on from Melissa. It hasn’t been for lack of trying. He’s wanted nothing more than to put her in his past. 

He’s just been waiting for someone he could love as much as he loved Melissa. And now he’s found him. And Jake is everything Mitch could want in a partner. 

And tomorrow they’ll return to Arizona and pretend this never happened. 

The song ends. The spell breaks. Jake pulls away from him. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he says softly, abruptly. Mitch opens his eyes and Jake won’t look at him and his heart breaks all over again. 

“I’m sorry,” Jake says again and he hurries off the dance floor.

 

* * *

 

Mitch returns to their table, loosening his tie and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. It feels like it’s late enough in the night for that to be acceptable, anyway. Everyone is out on the dance floor and he can’t help but feel sorry for himself, sitting alone at an empty table.

It’s hard for him not to think about what just happened, about getting too close to Jake and probably giving away all of his feelings and of course Jake would get freaked out. He didn’t sign up for any of this. He was already being a good sport about everything and then Mitch had to go and fuck it all up. 

He’s probably ruined the night.

“Mitch?”

Oh, great.

He turns and Melissa is standing there, looking radiant in her wedding gown, and that sight is really not what Mitch needs at the moment.

“Hey,” he says instead of telling her to go away, because this is her wedding and Mitch has always been polite to a fault. 

“May I?” she asks, gesturing to the chair next to him. Jake’s chair. 

“Yeah,” he says, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. “Uh, congrats. By the way. Thanks for the invite.”

She sits, her hands in her lap, fidgeting with her wedding ring. 

“Thank you for coming,” she says. “I just...didn’t want you to leave. Without me telling you that. I...really didn’t think you’d come.”

“Yeah, well…” Mitch glances around, sees Jake leaving the bathrooms. He begins to make his way back to the table but notices Melissa there, and despite Mitch’s desperate nonverbal plea of ‘ _ HELP ME _ ’ Jake doesn’t seem to get the message. Instead he turns, heading to the direction of the bar, and Mitch’s shoulders fall a bit in defeat. 

“Jake thought we should,” Mitch finishes his thought, looking back at Melissa. 

“That’s uh, also what I wanted to talk to you about,” Melissa says and Mitch can’t help but bristle a bit at that.

“Yeah?”

“It’s nothing bad,” she quickly says. “Actually, it’s… I’m happy for you, Mitch.”

And that’s not what Mitch was expecting to hear.

“I know what I did was...you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. But I’m glad you’ve been able to move on.” 

Mitch blinks.

“My mom said it sounded like you moved on...pretty fast too.” She gives a small, sad smile. “Maybe we both had other people in mind for ourselves.”

And  _ that _ finally sparks the anger that’s been boiling in him for a long, long time. 

“Well,” he says carefully, not wanting to make a scene even though he really really does. “Up until recently I really only had one person in mind.”

She looks away, sighing. 

“I’m sorry-”

“You keep saying that,” Mitch interrupts, “but I still don’t believe you.”

Her mouth sets itself in a tight, straight line.

“Mitch-”

“Because the thing I’ve learned,” Mitch continues, “is that once you realize someone has been lying to you for months, it’s hard to trust anything else that comes out of their mouth.”

“Why did you come here?” she asks, any warmth she may have brought to the conversation now gone. 

And Mitch bites the inside of his cheek, fighting every snarky reply that he instinctively wants to throw at her. Instead he takes a moment, composes a better answer. 

“Honestly?” he says. “To show you how fucking happy I am with someone else. Because I know you and Ryan didn’t really want me to come and I called your fucking bluff and Glenn was right.”

“What was Glenn right about?” Her tone is downright hostile and Mitch knows he and Jake are going to have to leave very, very soon after this conversation.

“You still feel guilty. And me moving on means you get to forgive yourself. Well guess what? Even if I have moved on, and I’m happier with Jake than I ever was with you, and I forgot about you the moment you walked out of my fucking life--"

All lies. All of it. He can’t believe he’s gotten as good at this as she is.

“I still don’t forgive you,” he says. “And I never will.”

She stands abruptly, smoothing down the skirt of her dress with shaking hands. Her eyes shine with tears but Mitch can’t bring himself to care. Melissa opens her mouth, Mitch assumes she’s about to try to squeeze in the last word before she walks away, but before she can say anything Jake is storming over to their table. 

“Tell Ryan,” he says in a tone Mitch has never heard him use before. He sounds murderous. “That if he ever talks that way about my husband  _ ever  _ again, I will shove his stupid guitar so far up his ass he won’t be able to walk right for a month.”

He grabs Mitch’s arm and Mitch gets to his feet, a little confused but happy to go.

“Thank you for the wonderful evening,” Jake adds and the last thing Mitch sees before Jake is leading them both out of the ballroom is Ryan approaching the table, a splash of dark red wine covering his chest. 

He slips an arm around Jake’s waist and neither of them look back, even as Ryan shouts after them. 

 

* * *

 

The hotel Mitch had booked for his own stay isn’t nearly as nice as the hotel the wedding had been in, but it’s right across the street and it has a bar so. Small victories. 

It’s pretty quiet, and they’re able to find a booth in the back that affords them a little privacy. Mitch heads to the bar and gets drinks for them both, head still swimming from everything that happened in the past five minutes. He half expects Jake to still be angry when he returns to their table, but instead as he scoots into their booth and sets their drinks down, Jake bursts into laughter. 

It borders on hysterical, and he clutches at his stomach and leans against Mitch as he laughs. 

“I can’t,” he says between peals of giggles, “Believe. We fucking. Did that!”

And Mitch can’t help his own laughter that bubbles to the surface. It really was ridiculous. This whole night was ridiculous. He showed up to his ex’s wedding and pretended to be married to his best friend and Mitch actually doesn’t think he’s had this much absurd fun in ages.

Jake is still leaning on him, even after their laughter dies down.

“Thank you,” Mitch says sincerely. “For agreeing to do this with me. I couldn’t’ve handled that by myself.”

“Anytime,” Jake says, and he sounds just as sincere. “It was...surprisingly fun.”

“What did you do?” Mitch asks and Jake pulls away to look at him and Mitch is regretting asking his question.

“What do you mean?”

“While I was talking. With Melissa. What did you do?”

“Oh.” Jake leans forward, his elbows on the table. “It was, uh. Nothing. Just Ryan being a dick. As usual. Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

Mitch really does, but he drops the subject. Anything to get Jake to stop looking uncomfortable. 

“Either way,” he says, trying to lighten the mood, “I should thank you for defending my honor, too.”

Jake smiles down at his drink and has he just been blushing this whole time? Mitch hasn’t been keeping track. 

“Yeah, well,” he says in a small voice, “I’d do it again.” His smile softens then, a bit of something Mitch can’t discern in his expression. It’s not quite sadness, but it doesn’t look good.

“I’d uh. Defend the honor of any of my friends,” Jake adds. 

And there’s the cold dose of reality Mitch was hoping to avoid until morning. But at the same time he’s glad Jake mentioned it. They are just friends, after all. Even if everything in Mitch is screaming that he wants more.

“Still,” he says quietly, trying to make a joke though he doesn’t think his tone quite fits. “It means more when you defend the honor of your husband.”

Jake laughs again, but it sounds forced and awkward. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “My husband.”

Silence stretches between them and Mitch doesn’t know what to do. He wants to make Jake laugh but he can’t think of anything to say. He wants to take Jake’s hand but now that they’re not at the wedding he doesn’t think that’s allowed. He wants to go back to being on the dance floor, holding Jake close and pretending they were the only two people left on earth.

Mitch wants. That seems to be the story of his fucking life.

“There’s no one else I’d’ve asked to do that,” Mitch hears himself say and Jake looks up. 

“Be my uh. Boyfriend. Husband. Whatever.” Mitch runs a hand through his hair. Despite the booze loosening his tongue it hasn’t made him any less awkward. “I only would’ve done that with you.”

He chances a glance at Jake, who just looks a little surprised. Maybe a little unsure. And Mitch wants to take all of that away. The awkwardness, the uncertainty. He only ever wants to make Jake smile.

And Mitch’s gaze moves from Jake’s eyes down to his lips.

And Mitch  _ wants. _

And maybe for just a little bit longer they can pretend. And maybe Jake will let Mitch indulge in this fantasy one last time before it’s all over.

“Please don’t hate me,” Mitch says, voice barely above a whisper as he scoots closer to Jake in the booth. And he leans in. And Jake’s eyes close. 

Mitch presses his lips to Jake’s, and it’s everything he wanted and more.

Jake kisses back and Mitch’s hand moves to the back of his neck. He wants to deepen the kiss, to keep going, to see how far he can take this before Jake realizes he’s making a mistake--

But a cough from the bartender reminds him that they’re in public. Jake is first to pull away from the kiss and Mitch has to stop himself from leaning back in, from chasing Jake’s mouth with his own.

“We should go,” Jake says in a low voice. Mitch nods, taking a deep breath, but he makes no move to get out of the booth. 

“Come on,” Jake says with a little chuckle, taking Mitch’s hand, and Mitch finally moves. He’d probably let Jake lead him anywhere.

Luckily Jake only leads them to the elevator up to their room.

They’re on the fifth floor, but the climb up still feels like it takes ages. Mitch doesn’t let go of Jake’s hand and Jake leans against Mitch a bit. They don’t say anything, but it doesn’t feel like they have to. Mitch glances down, watching Jake watch the floor numbers climb as the elevator pulls them higher and higher. 

Jake looks up at Mitch as the doors open, and his grin as he pulls Mitch out of the elevator is nothing short of beautiful. 

They hurry to their room, only letting go of each other’s hands as Mitch has to fumble in his wallet for their key. He can feel Jake’s anticipation, a lion curling up before it pounces, and the relief from both of them when their door finally opens is palpable. 

Before Mitch can say anything the door has closed behind him and Jake has pressed him against it, grabbing his tie and pulling him down for a kiss. Mitch’s hands are quick to pull Jake’s shirt out from under the waistband of his pants, eager to touch as much of Jake as he can as soon as possible. The urge to just rip Jake’s shirt open is definitely there, but Mitch doesn’t want to ruin the mood and make Jake have to buy a new shirt but also buttons are so hard to undo when he can’t see what he’s doing and--

“Mitch.” Jake’s voice is low and breathless as he breaks their kiss. “You’re thinking way too loud. Just tear my fucking clothes off.”

Well. Challenge accepted. 

Mitch takes the hem of Jake’s shirt in both hands, gripping tight and yanking and it’s pretty satisfying as the buttons pop off and Jake’s shirt is suddenly open. Jake seems intent on kissing every inch of Mitch’s neck that he can reach and Mitch isn’t about to stop him, but he can’t help but think this would be more comfortable laying down. 

And then Jake begins to sink to his knees and no. Nope. No need to move. Mitch is good right here. 

“Is this okay?” Jake asks as he begins to undo Mitch’s belt and Mitch nods at an almost embarrassing speed.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, reaching down and running a hand through Jake’s hair as Jake unbuttons his pants. If he’s fallen asleep at the bar and this is all a dream, he hopes nobody wakes him until it’s over.

Mitch already feels like a floundering, too-eager mess, but everything about Jake is steady and precise. As if he’d already formed an entire game plan in just the elevator ride up to their room, and he knew the part he had to play perfectly. He slides Mitch’s pants down to the middle of his thighs, reaching up and running a hand over Mitch’s already half-hard cock in his briefs and Mitch bites his lip to keep himself from making any ridiculous noises. 

He looks down and he wishes he could see more of Jake. Their room is dim, any light is only coming from the bright city just outside their window, and he can barely make out Jake’s face. It feels too impersonal and Mitch doesn’t like it. This is probably the only time Jake will want to do this with him. He wants to remember every second of it, and it won’t be the same if he can’t remember what Jake looks like. 

“Wait,” he says softly and Jake freezes, his hands on the waistband of Mitch’s briefs. “Can we...is there a light? We can turn on? I-I want…”

“You want to see me?” Jake asks and Mitch doesn’t understand why he sounds so surprised. 

“Yeah,” Mitch breathes, feeling his face heat up. Is it a dumb request? It might be. “I-I don’t have to if you don’t want-”

“There’s a hallway light,” Jake quickly says. “The switch should be right there.”

Mitch fumbles around the wall next to him and sure enough, a light switch is there. He flicks the switch up and the light above them turns on and finally Mitch can see Jake. 

And Jake is a very pretty picture. His hair is mussed, his shirt open though his tie still hangs loose and nearly-undone around his neck. He blinks up at Mitch, his pupils already blown wide. 

“Better?” he asks and Mitch nods, returning his hand to Jake’s hair.

“Better.” he confirms.

Jake gives a little nod, fingers slipping under the waistband of Mitch’s briefs and pulling them down. Jake maintains eye contact as he leans in, taking Mitch’s cock in one hand and pressing his lips to the tip and Mitch feels his knees go weak for a moment. His free hand grips the doorframe behind him, trying to find any support as Jake slowly begins to take Mitch’s cock in his mouth. 

And Mitch knows it’s a vulgar thought, but Jake looks absolutely beautiful like this. Of course he always looks beautiful. But right now, with flushed cheeks and his hair in Mitch’s grasp as he coaxes Mitch with his mouth to get harder and harder? He’s fucking gorgeous. 

Mitch runs his fingers through Jake’s hair, letting Jake bob his head at whatever pace he desires. The last thing he wants to do is take things too fast or do something that would make Jake stop, even if everything inside him is screaming that he wants more, he needs more, he needs Jake to keep going and never stop--

Which is, of course, when Jake pulls away and Mitch isn’t able to stop the needy, disappointed whine that leaves him when he does.

“You know you can move,” Jake says, his voice huskier than Mitch has ever heard it. “I-I want you to.”

Mitch nods, biting at his bottom lip. “But if I...I don’t want to hurt you-”

“You won’t. I know you won’t.” Jake’s idly stroking his cock and blinking up at him and god, how could Mitch ever say no to a sight like that? He grips Jake’s hair in a tighter fist, tugging just a little to test the waters and Jake’s eyes close, a pleased little noise coming from the back of his throat as he returns his mouth to Mitch’s cock. 

Mitch’s movements are tentative at first. He really doesn’t want to hurt Jake, but with how eagerly Jake is moving now he can’t really see a reason to deny him what he wants. He starts to move his hips, Jake stilling and closing his eyes as Mitch starts to fuck his mouth. 

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly Mitch seems to lose control of himself, his thrusts going from slow and measured to erratic in a matter of minutes. Jake keeps giving little moans that Mitch can  _ feel  _ and it’s the hottest thing he thinks he’s ever experienced but it’s also definitely not going to help him last much longer. 

“Jake,” he chokes out, forcing himself to slow down even as Jake’s hands reach up and grip his thighs, trying to keep him there. “I’m not...not gonna last…”

Jake gives another little moan but he does pull back at that. A little string of saliva hangs between his bottom lip and the tip of Mitch’s cock and Mitch has to close his eyes and take a deep breath because wow. Yeah. He can’t let the night end just yet. 

Jake wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, looking incredibly pleased with himself as he rises to his feet and pulls Mitch in for another kiss. Mitch can taste himself on Jake’s tongue and it makes his head spin.

Jake grabs Mitch’s tie again, breaking the kiss and pulling him further into the room until they’re standing at the foot of the bed. 

“Give me just a second,” Jake says. “And finish getting undressed.”

Mitch nods, only remembering then that his pants are still halfway down his legs. Jake rifles through his suitcase as Mitch sheds the rest of his clothes, balling them up and tossing them aside. His dry cleaning bill would be a small price to pay for tonight. 

He sits down on the end of the bed and watches Jake, who seems to be getting irritated as he searches through the pockets of his suitcase. 

“Come on,” he hears him mutter. “I thought I left some in here...Ah!”

He turns to Mitch, holding a bottle aloft in triumph, and tosses the bottle to him. Mitch catches it, examining the label and--

“Why do you keep lube in your suitcase?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“Librarian conferences,” Jake answers simply as he starts to take off his pants and Mitch is even more confused. 

“Hookups happen,” Jake says flippantly, a touch more defensive than before and Mitch hurries to ease his tension.

“Oh, no I-I didn’t mean to...I mean, it’s...It’s great to be prepared,” he tries, giving Jake a little smile. Mitch can see Jake’s mouth turn up in a little grin before he turns around, bending over as he slips off his pants and Mitch takes the opportunity to admire the view. 

He’s seen Jake in various states of undress plenty of times. It comes with the territory of being close friends. But he’s never seen Jake naked before. Jake shrugs off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor before pulling his undershirt up over his head. He turns, framed in city lights cutting through the darkness just outside their window, the hallway light that’s still on casting half of him in light and half in shadow.

“You’re beautiful,” Mitch says before he can stop himself and, despite what they’d just done pressed up against the door to their room, that’s what makes Jake’s face turn pink and his gaze fall to the floor. 

“Hardly,” he says, his tone soft and self-deprecating and Mitch frowns. He’s about to argue but then Jake is moving toward him. His hand finds the back of Mitch’s neck and he pulls him into a kiss, plucking the bottle of lube from Mitch’s grasp. 

“Scoot back,” he says against Mitch’s mouth. “Lay down.”

Mitch does as he’s told, laying back, his arms spread out on either side of him as Jake climbs up onto the bed and straddles Mitch’s hips. 

“Is this okay?” Jake asks and Mitch nods emphatically. 

“It’s great,” he replies and Jake grins, slicking up his fingers with the lube before reaching back behind himself. 

“Hope you don’t mind,” he says, the shifting of his shoulders the only indication of what he’s doing and Mitch only minds that he can’t see it. He runs his hands over Jake’s thighs and up to his hips, taking in the sight of Jake closing his eyes and opening himself up. 

“Most people,” Jake continues, voice beginning to lose just a bit of his usual composure, “prefer to leave the prep work to me.”

It’s clear that this really is something he’s used to doing and Mitch tries his best not to think about that. It isn’t as if it puts him off, Jake is a rational consenting adult who’s free to do as he pleases. It isn’t as if Mitch hasn’t had one night stands too. It isn’t as if he’s not having a one night stand right now, in spite of how desperately he wishes that weren’t the case. 

But the thought of Jake being in this position with someone else, of someone else’s hands on him as he writhes above them... It leaves a bad taste in Mitch’s mouth. 

He distracts himself with the sounds that Jake is making, soft little satisfied moans as his hips begin to move and he leans forward, steadying himself with a hand on Mitch’s chest.

“Can I try?” he hears himself saying before he can stop himself and Jake stills above him, eyes opening as he blinks down at Mitch.

“Oh,” he says, sounding surprised again. “I mean...yeah. Sure.”

He passes the bottle to Mitch and Mitch quickly slicks up the fingers on his right hand. Jake scoots a little further up so it’s more comfortable for Mitch to reach behind him.

“I-I was up to three,” he breathes out, cheeks bright red, the flush beginning to color his chest now too and Mitch nods. He teases Jake just a moment before tentatively sinking a finger in. Jake is already slick and relaxed, and the buck of his hips and the moan that slips from him is more than enough encouragement for Mitch to quickly add a second finger. 

It takes a bit of Jake riding his hand before he can slip a third finger in, but when he does Jake makes the loveliest little sounds and Mitch thinks he could watch Jake ride his hand all night if that’s what Jake really wants to do. Luckily it seems like he has other plans as he reaches back and takes Mitch’s wrist, stilling his hand so he can ease himself up off of Mitch’s fingers. 

“More,” Jake mutters, scrambling for the bottle of lube. He pours a bit into his hand, tossing the bottle aside again and reaching between them for Mitch’s cock. He’s still just as hard as he’d been with his back pressed against their door and he groans a bit as Jake gives him a few quick strokes, slicking him up. 

Jake lines himself up with Mitch, gaze flicking up to meet Mitch’s and Mitch hopes his expression looks a little more appealing than the dumb wonder he’s sure is there. He just still can’t believe that Jake is here, that he really wants to do this and that he’s really sinking down onto Mitch’s cock, lips parted and dull fingernails digging just slightly into Mitch’s chest as he eases himself down. 

“Fuck,” Jake hisses, throwing his head back for a moment before looking back down at Mitch. “That feels so good. Mitch…”

“Can you move?” Mitch asks, his hands sliding up Jake’s sides, thumbs digging into the divots of his hips. “Do you need-?”

“I’ve got it,” Jake assures him quickly, steadying his balance against Mitch’s chest as he begins to slowly raise himself up and sink back down and it feels perfect. It’s better than perfect. Jake is warm and tight around him and Mitch knows he should probably feel a bit used at this point but...he doesn’t mind it. Not really. Jake’s already given him more than he ever thought he would get. Even if Jake just means to take his own pleasure and have his own fun, there’s nothing saying Mitch can’t enjoy that he’s the one Jake has decided to use tonight. 

Mitch watches, speechless, as Jake rides him. There are a hundred things he’d like to say, of course, each one bubbling up to the tip of his tongue before he forces the words back down. 

_ You look amazing. You feel incredible. I don’t ever want to forget what this feels like. _

_ Do you do this with everyone? Can other people make you sound like that? _

_ I don’t want this to be the only night I get with you. _

_ Did you want our lie to be real too? _

“You’re thinking again,” Jake says, strained voice cutting through Mitch’s thoughts. 

“Oh,” Mitch replies, half exclamation and half moan. “I-I’m sorry, I was just-”

“It’s okay,” Jake says, leaning down and pressing a line of kisses along Mitch’s jaw. “What if we switched positions?” 

“Y-You mean-” Mitch stammers, trying to get himself to string together a single coherent thought with very little success. 

“I mean you lay me down and fuck me into this mattress,” Jake growls and yeah. Mitch can definitely make that happen. 

It takes some maneuvering, and a few passing kisses that deepen before they remember what they’re trying to do, but eventually Jake settles back against the sheets and pillows, hands on Mitch’s shoulders as Mitch positions himself between Jake’s legs. He leans in for a kiss as he sinks back into Jake, who gives a low moan against Mitch’s mouth. 

In this position it’s easier for Mitch to take a bit of control, moving to kiss Jake’s neck and find the spot that gets him to make the best sounds. He rocks his hips back and forth, fucking Jake in a sweet, slow rhythm. 

“So fucking beautiful,” Mitch groans against Jake’s neck. “Tell me what you want, Jake.”

“More,” Jake whines. “Please, Mitch, don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mitch replies, slowly picking up the pace. “Want you to feel good, darling.”

The pet name slips out before he can stop it, but if Jake catches it he doesn’t seem to mind. Mitch picks up his pace a bit, murmuring endearments into Jake’s skin as he keeps leaving marks along his neck. 

“So good for me. So fucking good. God, Jake, look at you. You’re amazing.”

Most of Jake’s previous composure is gone now, and he’s become a writhing mess under Mitch, his hips moving to meet as many of Mitch’s thrusts as he can. 

“Is this how it would have felt?” He hears Jake ask, voice shot through with pleasure. “On our wedding night?”

Mitch’s hips stutter. He nearly has to stop because the thought is too much to bear. The thought of having Jake like this in their marriage bed. Spread out and open and telling Mitch he loves him. Running his hands over Mitch and Mitch able to feel his wedding band. A ring on Mitch’s own finger, glinting in the low light of their room as he grips the sheets underneath them. 

No, even in this state Mitch knows it’s stupid to want that. Even now they’re playing parts. Jake wanted to have sex and Mitch is lucky to be the one he reached for, and he’ll be anything Jake needs him to be in this moment. Stranger, friend, lover. Even husband. 

Even if the want, the  _ need _ , rips its way through his guts and up out of his throat in a low, almost pained groan. Jake wraps his arms around Mitch, pulling him close. 

He can do this. He can give Jake what he wants. Even if it feels like his heart is breaking. 

“Yeah,” he finally answers, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes. “I’d have you just like this. Keep you under me until you’re satisfied. So beautiful, Jake, and mine. All mine. M-My husband…”

Underneath him Jake’s back arches, his head falling back against his pillow as he lets out a high, loud moan. 

“Mitch! Oh god. It feels so good, I-I don’t...I don’t want it to end…”

“I’ve got you,” Mitch says, opening his eyes and taking in the look on Jake’s face. His mouth is open, eyes half-shut and glazed over with lust as he meets Mitch’s gaze and every thrust of Mitch’s hips makes him moan. Mitch reaches between them, taking Jake’s cock in his hand and stroking it in time with his thrusts.

“Come on, Jake,” he says with a smile. “Come for me, sweetheart. I want to see what it looks like. Want to hear how you sound.”

Jake’s ankles cross behind Mitch’s back. His nails dig into Mitch’s shoulders. His eyes roll back. And with a sharp, wordless cry of ecstasy Mitch feels Jake spill over his hand. He fucks Jake through it as best as he can, stopping only when Jake gives a weak little moan and says “t-too much, too much…”

Mitch stops, still buried deep as Jake takes deep, shuddering breaths and comes back to himself. He pulls Mitch in for a kiss and Mitch is happy to oblige. Orgasm has made Jake so soft, so pliant. He uncrosses his ankles, letting his legs fall open as he sinks into the bed underneath him. He lets go of Mitch’s shoulders and his arms fall back, hands on either side of his head on the pillow. He looks radiant and satisfied and Mitch files the memory away for later. It’s definitely a keeper. 

“Keep going,” Jake says with a lazy smile. “Your turn now.” 

Mitch nods, taking the backs of Jake’s knees and lifting, giving himself a bit of purchase as he begins to move inside Jake again. 

He wants to work quick. Dragging his own pleasure out now just feels like overstaying his welcome, and he wants to keep Jake looking that happy and that satisfied for as long as possible. He squeezes his eyes shut, fucking Jake in quick, deep thrusts and it feels amazing but something is missing. 

“Jake,” he whines and Mitch knows he’s not in a position to ask for anything. Jake has already given him more than enough, has already given Mitch the best night he’s had in a very long time, has let Mitch indulge in his own fantasies for a selfish amount of time, but Mitch can’t help but ask for more. 

“C-Can you...I need…”

“What is it?” Jake asks in such a gentle voice Mitch could cry with how much he loves him. “What do you need?” 

He swallows hard, buries his face in the crook of Jake’s neck. All he needs is a push, just a bit of encouragement only Jake can give him.

“Touch me,” he finally blurts out and he can feel Jake immediately oblige. His arms wrap around Mitch, a hand on the back of his neck and Mitch already feels more grounded. Pleasure curls up deep inside him, tight and white-hot. 

“That’s it.” He distantly hears Jake’s voice. “Show me how good it feels, Mitch.”

Mitch’s own sounds are muffled by Jake’s neck and, before he can stop himself, he bites down. Not too hard, even through his haze of pleasure he’s careful to not break skin, but hard enough that he hears Jake give a little gasp under him. He kisses the mark immediately, trying to soothe it as he finally manages to give in to the urge that has been building in him all night. 

“I love you,” he whispers against Jake’s neck before he can stop himself, going completely still as he comes. “God, Jake, I love you so fucking much.”

The rest of the noises he makes are formless moans, most of them attempts at saying Jake’s name again. He’s holding Jake as close as he can, every point of contact between them sending an electric current through him. It’s what Mitch has needed for so long, what he’s agonized over. Intimacy. Contact. Connection. 

Love. 

Jake’s fingers are tracing patterns on the back of Mitch’s neck, coaxing him back down to reality as he rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm. He feels empty as he pulls out of Jake, wrung out and drained. They lay together in silence, neither one making a move to pull away or get up, before Jake finally speaks.

“We should, um. Probably get cleaned up.”

Mitch nods, rolling over onto his back so Jake can get off of the bed, the sudden lack of Jake leaving him feeling cold. He stares up at the ceiling, trying to process what just happened and what he just said. He hears the shower kick on and sits up,  swinging his legs over the side of the bed, staring at the wall and running a hand over his face. 

Maybe Jake won’t want to mention the whole ‘I love you’ thing. Maybe he didn’t even hear it. That’s really the best scenario Mitch can hope for at this point, that he gets one good night with Jake and then they never have to acknowledge it ever again. They’ll go back to Phoenix and go back to being friends and everything will be fine. 

_ Everything will be fine. _

Even if Mitch knows his empty apartment is waiting for him, with too much space and too much silence and too many memories.

Even if it feels like they’d been dancing on the precipice of  _ something  _ all night, and now Mitch has thrown them both over the edge and into the unknown.  

Even if he could go on a hundred dates now but would probably end up comparing them all to Jake and give up on trying to find someone else.

Mitch leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and puts his head in his hands. He’s really gone and fucked himself over now, hooking up with his best friend. He got a night he never even dared to hope for, and now he has to move on and pretend that it didn’t even matter to him. 

“Shower’s all yours.”

Mitch nearly jumps out of his skin and looks up. He hadn’t even heard the shower turn off, he’d been so focused on his own thoughts. 

“Sorry,” Jake says with a frown. “Are you...is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Mitch says, forcing a smile. He stands, heading to the bathroom, and resolutely ignores the urge he has to give Jake a quick kiss as he moves past him.

Once Mitch has closed the door behind him, he glances at the mirror and looks himself over. There are marks dotting his neck, red lines running down his back and he doesn’t even remember Jake scratching him. 

_ More _ , Jake’s voice echoes in the back of his mind.  _ More… _

He presses a finger to a mark just above his collarbone and swallows hard. What he wouldn’t give to be able to keep some of these. He feels like he needs proof that tonight happened, otherwise he fears it will start to feel too much like a dream. 

He keeps his shower quick, exhaustion urging him to hurry up and return to bed. Before Mitch shuts off the lights in their room he sees Jake’s curled up, facing Mitch’s side of the bed, and Mitch thinks he might already be asleep. He peels the covers back carefully, trying not to disturb Jake, but then he feels the tentative touch of fingertips on the back of his hand.

“Did you still want to be little spoon tonight?” Jake asks as Mitch lays down. In the darkness of their room he can’t see Jake’s face, but he sounds nervous. 

“Uh. Sure.” Mitch replies, flipping to lay on his other side, half-convinced Jake is just messing with him. But then Jake’s arms are encircling him and his forehead is pressed against Mitch’s shoulders. 

Mitch closes his eyes, curling his legs up and away from Jake. He doesn’t know what to do. Everything in him is screaming to turn around and bury himself in Jake’s arms, but he’s afraid that isn’t allowed now. How long does he have before they go back to just being friends? Until the car ride home? Until sunrise?

Mitch lays awake, listening to Jake’s breathing slowly even out behind him. It’s only when he’s absolutely sure that Jake is asleep that he moves, turning slowly and tucking his face into Jake’s neck. 

Nothing wrong with one last little indulgence before the night was over. And if they wake up tangled together, Mitch can blame it on them moving as they slept. 

 

* * *

 

Mitch thought he’d gotten used to waking up alone by now, but reaching out and finding nobody on the other side of the bed still hurts. He opens his eyes, taking in the sight of rumpled sheets and Jake’s pillow and no Jake. 

_ So it really is over.  _

It feels like more of a loss than it probably should. As if he’s been dumped all over again, even though there was really nothing between them to end.

Well. The sooner they get home the better, then. 

Mitch gets out of bed, flinging the curtains open and flooding the room with sunlight. He throws on the first clothes he grabs out of his suitcase before beginning to gather up the rest of his things. Pieces of his suit from last night are still scattered about at the foot of the bed and he reaches down, picking up his wrinkled necktie. He runs a thumb over the soft fabric. 

_ Jake’s hands carefully tying the knot and making sure it lays straight, his hands gripping the tie and pulling Mitch into a kiss-- _

Mitch blinks, forcing himself back down to reality before continuing to gather his clothes. 

By the time he’s zipping up his suitcase the door to their room opens. 

“Oh,” Mitch hears. He glances over and Jake is there, holding a coffee cup and paper bag. He steps into the room, looking a little unsure of himself. 

“You’re up,” he says. “I um. Ran out for some breakfast.” As if suddenly remembering the cup and bag in his hands he nearly thrusts them in Mitch’s direction.

“You take your coffee black, right? I got you that. And a muffin. It’s blueberry.”

Mitch takes them, giving Jake a little smile. This was good. They could still be friends. Nothing had to change, everything was going to be fine.

“Yeah. Thanks, man.” 

Jake nods, looking away quickly and busying himself with packing up his own thing and Mitch is suddenly very afraid that everything is not going to be fine. Jake won’t even look at him. He digs around in the paper bag, though any appetite he had after waking up is mostly gone now due to nerves. 

“So we’re just...heading back home, then?”

“Yeah,” Mitch replies around a mouthful of muffin. “Unless you had something else in mind?”

“Nah,” Jake says, his back to Mitch as he carefully folds his clothes before setting them in his suitcase. “Should probably skip town before Melissa and Ryan organize a search party to hunt us down anyway.” 

Mitch huffs a laugh into the rim of his cup before taking a sip. A few moments of silence pass before he speaks up.

“What did Ryan say to you anyway? You seemed pretty pissed.”

Mitch can see Jake’s posture stiffen, and he wishes he could see Jake’s face but by the time Jake zips his suitcase and turns around he’s forced a tense smile.

“Just...rude stuff. I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

Mitch nods, even if he’s hesitant to let the subject go. It’s clear Ryan said something that really got under Jake’s skin, and Jake was usually pretty hard to rile up. It only made Mitch more curious, but if Jake didn’t want to talk about it he wasn’t about to force it. 

Even if the silence stretches between them, awkward and intrusive. All Mitch wants to do is ask what the hell happened and where do they stand and did last night mean half as much to Jake as it meant to him but the questions are stuck, lodged in the back of his throat.

 

* * *

 

If the mood in their hotel room is awkward, the mood as they begin their drive home is nothing short of grim. Jake’s feet are back up against the dashboard, his head against the window and his arms crossed tight against his chest. The only time he moves is to scroll through his phone for a bit before setting it back down on his stomach. Mitch turns on the radio, if only to have something to break the silence. 

“Do you need to stop?” he asks after about two hours into the drive. “There’s a gas station up ahead.”

“I’m fine,” Jake says, tone hard and dismissive, and it makes Mitch grit his teeth. 

He screwed up, that much is clear now. He’d never call last night a mistake but clearly Jake doesn’t agree with him and that really fucking hurts. 

But even if Mitch could never consider it a mistake, he doesn’t think last night makes losing his best friend worth it. Maybe if he apologizes, if he lies through his teeth and says it didn’t mean anything, Jake will stop giving him the cold shoulder. 

“Look,” he says, reaching to turn the radio down. “I think we need to talk-”

“We don’t.” Jake quickly interrupts. “What’s there to talk about?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you won’t even look at me?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jake grip the sleeve of his hoodie in a tight fist.

“Just tell me what’s wrong,” Mitch says, trying to sound less angry.

“Nothing,” Jake insists.

“Bullshit.”

Jake does turn to look at him then, eyes narrowed. 

“There doesn’t have to be anything wrong. If you’d just drop it-”

“Well it’s a little hard to do that when you’re sitting right next to me, pretending like we’re fuckin’ strangers.”

Jake turns his gaze back to the window and Mitch is starting to get desperate. He just needs the tension to go away. 

“Then tell me what I did wrong,” he says, staring out at the desert road stretching ahead of them. 

“Nothing.”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“For  _ what? _ ”

“For everything, if that’s what you’re mad about! For even wanting to go to the fucking wedding in the first place. For last night. Is that what you want to hear?”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Jake mutters, voice thick.

“You’re really making it feel like I do.”

“Well you don’t!” Jake says, feet falling from the dashboard as he sits up straight. “If anything I’m the one in the wrong.”

“What?”

“It was my stupid plan to begin with.” He runs a hand over his face. “And I fucked it up and said we were married-”

“And I was fine with that!”

“Because it was funny!” Jake snaps. “Because it was so great to joke about us falling in fucking love and getting married, right?”

“What makes you think-” Mitch tries to interrupt but Jake doesn’t let him.

“And I just...let it go on! Because maybe I…” He seems to wrestle with his own thoughts, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “I don’t know. I wanted to pretend. And then I let it go way too far.” 

“Jake,” Mitch says, tone softening in the face of Jake’s obvious pain. “It doesn’t have to-”

“Don’t. Don’t say it doesn’t have to mean anything. You don’t even fucking  _ know _ -”

He cuts himself off, hands dropping to his lap.

Mitch is trying to get his bearings, the conversation already veering far off any course he thought it could possibly take and he tries to search for something--anything--to say. 

“You don’t know,” Jake says and there is so much raw pain in his voice that Mitch feels it in his heart, “what this  _ feels like _ . To have this-” His hands move over his stomach, tugging at his hoodie. “This hurt all the time. This ache. Of wanting what you can’t have, of knowing that it’s fucking impossible to get what you want but you still want it anyway because giving up hope would feel even worse.”

Mitch has to look back at the road, but as he hears Jake give the sharp, stilted inhale of someone about to cry he knows this can’t go on. He pulls over, throwing the car in park and turning to fully face Jake, but Jake doesn’t even acknowledge him as he keeps talking.

“And then!” A smile, twisted and broken, stretches across Jake’s face for a moment before it falters and he shakes his head. “Then you finally get a chance to pretend you got what you always wanted. Just for one night. And maybe it’s all a lie or a joke but that doesn’t even matter, because for just a little bit of time that ache is gone and everything-” 

His voice cracks. Mitch reaches out but Jake holds up a hand, keeping him back. He swallows hard, wiping at his eyes before continuing. 

“-everything is okay. Even if you’re afraid. Even if people say shitty things to you.”

“What?” Mitch asks, thoroughly confused now. “Who-?”

“Fucking Ryan, who do you think?” Jake turns his face away from Mitch, looking out the passenger side window. Mitch can see his reflection in the glass, the agony and disgust that twists his mouth into a frown.

“He just wanted to let me know how surprised he was that you moved on so fast. Especially with me.” His voice drops low, until Mitch can barely hear what he nearly whispers. “Said he didn’t think that gay was so contagious.”

And Mitch is suddenly wishing he’d done a lot more before leaving the wedding. Punching Ryan square across the jaw would have been a good start. 

“What?” he asks, his tone pure venom, and Jake flinches.

“I threw wine at his face. Probably shoulda thrown the whole glass at him, I dunno. Look, that’s not the point-”

“Like hell it’s not-”

“It’s  _ not _ ,” Jake insists. “The point is even that couldn’t ruin my night. Because for once it seemed like you really wanted me, you know? In the same way I wanted you. And I don’t know if it was...pity or convenience or some other reason-”

“Jake,” he tries to cut in, growing desperate to get more than a few words in, “it wasn’t-”

“It was real to me,” Jake continues, ignoring Mitch. “All of it. It all...mattered. So even if it was all just for fun for you or...or you just want to forget this ever happened… I won’t blame you for that, but I guess you deserve to know. It was all real to me. At least, I wanted it to be.”

Jake seems to have talked himself down from hysterics, but he still looks miserable as he stares ahead of them. 

After a few moments, Mitch softly asks, “Can you look at me?”

After a few seconds Jake does, eyes wet and full of apprehension. 

“I don’t regret anything about last night,” Mitch says. “And I don’t think you’re...pathetic or dumb or any of that stuff. I meant what I said. There’s nobody I would have rather had with me than you.”

“So,” Jake’s gaze falls from Mitch’s face to his chest as he speaks, “what did last night mean to you, then?”

Mitch has to think a moment before answering. It was a step forward, definitely. It meant he was trying to begin to move on from the mess Melissa had left. It meant he was going to start opening himself up to other people again.

It meant he was finally going to acknowledge the feelings he had for Jake. Every passing glance and fleeting touch and ‘what if’ that he asked himself in the middle of the night. Every moment of closeness between the two of them that he brushed aside or refused to think about. The tightness in his chest he’d felt as he watched Jake and Krissy get married. The relief that made him feel unimaginably guilty when Jake announced their divorce. He hadn’t thought to want anything more than friendship, because it seemed too impossible. 

Because even if Jake was into guys, surely he could do better than Mitch. 

“It was real for me too,” he finally says. “It was...more than I could have ever hoped for.”

Jake shakes his head, still not meeting Mitch’s eyes. 

“You can’t mean that-”

“And why the hell can’t I?”

“Because,” Jake says, “I know you’re just...saying that. To be nice. Because you’re a really great friend, Mitch, but we can’t…I can’t go back to being just friends after this.” 

“Then we don’t have to.” 

Jake does meet his eyes then, his face a mask of resignation and pain, but his brow furrows as Mitch reaches out and takes Jake’s face in his hands.

“Punch me if I read the room wrong,” Mitch says, before leaning in and pressing his mouth to Jake’s.

It’s awkward, there’s no other way to think of it. They’re both still wearing their seat belts. The middle console of the car is between them. But after a moment of strained, silent tension where Mitch is completely sure that he’s irreparably fucked everything up, Jake makes a small desperate noise and grabs the back of Mitch’s neck. 

Mitch only breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, reaching up to rest a hand on the back of Jake’s neck, pressing their foreheads together. 

“I meant everything I said last night,” he says, voice low and soft. “I love you, Jake. Not just as a friend, even if I thought that’s all I could ever be to you.”

“Mitch,” Jake tries to interrupt but Mitch’s hand moves, thumb tracing Jake’s jawline before running over his bottom lip. 

“I’ve loved you for so fucking long,” Mitch says with a little laugh. Finally saying it almost makes him feel giddy. “And I didn’t think I would ever be able to tell you that. I didn’t even want to tell  _ myself  _ that, because then I’d just be signing myself for a lifetime of watching you fall in love with other people.”

He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before pulling away just a bit and opening his eyes. Jake looks up at him, eyes still wet and lips slightly parted, and Mitch wants to lean in and kiss him again but he needs to say his piece.

“Yeah, it took being dumped and pretending to be married to you as revenge to get me to finally pull my head out of my ass, but that doesn’t mean my feelings came from nowhere. But you always had girlfriends, and then you had Krissy, and what was I supposed to think? I couldn’t even hope to be a rebound hookup. And then everything happened with Melissa and I kind of just...realized that I didn’t want to fall in love with anyone else. And I was okay with being alone, because meeting someone new and letting them in sounded like the hardest thing in the world.

“But I didn’t have to do anything to fall in love with you. The feelings were always just...there. And I didn’t want to believe they were real until I thought there was even the slightest chance you could want me too.”

Jake pulls him in for another kiss. It’s soft. Gentle. It has none of the heat of last night or desperation of today but it’s simple and sweet and it feels like coming home. When Jake pulls away and sits back in his seat Mitch almost wants to pull him back in, but then Jake takes his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“You mean it?” he asks, the hope in his eyes still tinged with a trepidation that Mitch is desperate to take away. “You really do love me?”

Mitch nods, squeezing Jake’s hand. 

He doesn’t know how long they sit on the side of the road, Jake framed in the sunlight streaming through the window behind him. 

“I want to paint you like this,” Jake says suddenly, smiling wide. “You look good in the sun.” 

Mitch laughs, relieved that the tension between them seems to have finally passed. He feels like he’s been put through the wringer, exhausted now that he’s laid himself bare for Jake and Jake has done the same for him. But it finally feels like they’re on the same page, and that they both want the same thing.

They get back on the road, Jake keeping his hand in Mitch’s as much as he can. 

 

* * *

 

It’s dusk by the time they pull into Avondale. 

“Want to come back to my place?” Mitch asks, glancing at Jake as they stop at a red light. 

“Sure,” Jake replies with a shy smile. “Pizza and movies?”

“You read my goddamn mind.”

It’s strange, that everything and nothing has changed between them at the same time, but it’s a good kind of strange. 

For the most part, it feels like a typical night with Jake. They order food and eat on Mitch’s couch, yelling at movies they’ve seen a hundred times before. Jake makes the same jokes as always and Mitch laughs at all of them. They’re as comfortable as ever with each other.

But then when they’re done eating Jake curls up against Mitch’s side. Mitch puts an arm around him, pulling him close. And as the credits roll he turns his head, pressing a soft kiss to Jake’s temple. 

He doesn’t expect things to go further than that, but Jake turns to face him and pulls him down for another kiss. 

“I just like being able to do this. I still don’t believe that I can,” Jake says, tilting his head and pressing a line of kisses down to Mitch’s neck before pausing. “I-I can do this, right?” 

“Duh,” Mitch replies with a grin. “I’d be sad if you stopped now.”

Mitch doesn’t think he’s had an honest to god couch makeout session since college but it does have a certain charm to it. Jake is quick to settle himself in Mitch’s lap, wrapping his arms around Mitch’s shoulders as Mitch’s hands settle on his hips. He eases up the hem of Jake’s shirt, pressing fingertips into soft skin as Jake gives a soft little moan. 

“What do you want?” Mitch asks. Jake runs a hand through Mitch’s hair, looking down at him, and there’s wonder in his eyes.

“I really don’t know,” he says, voice breathless. “I honestly didn’t think I’d get this far.”

“You did a lot of work before,” Mitch says as his hands ease up further under Jake’s shirt. “Why don’t I return the favor?” 

Jake nods, and before he says anything Mitch has moved his hands to Jake’s thighs, gripping them tight as he stands up, Jake’s legs around his waist. Jake seems surprised, quickly holding on tight to Mitch’s shoulders. 

“I didn’t expect that,” he says, blush rising to turn his cheeks pink, and Mitch laughs. 

“I aim to exceed expectations.”

Jake rolls his eyes, but his smile is affectionate. “Are you planning on taking me anywhere, or were we gonna stand in the middle of your living room all night?”

“So pushy,” Mitch says as he begins to carry Jake to his bedroom. “Will you be giving orders all night?”

“Only if you let me.”

The walk to Mitch’s room is a little slow-going, if only because Jake seems intent on kissing every mark he left on Mitch’s neck last night and the sensation is more than a little distracting. But eventually Mitch makes it, closing the door behind him with his foot before making his way to his bed and laying Jake down. 

“Sorry,” he says as Jake shifts to get comfortable against rumpled sheets and misplaced pillows, “would’ve actually made my bed if I thought anyone else was gonna see it.”

“I don’t mind,” Jake replies with a grin, beginning to pull his shirt up before Mitch positions himself onto the bed, straddling Jake, his hands gently stopping Jake’s from moving.

“I said I’d do the work,” he reminds Jake gently. Jake lets go of his shirt, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip as he allows Mitch to move his hands up and over his head. 

“Okay,” he finally replies in a low whisper.

“This is okay, right?” Mitch asks. “I mean...I’m okay if you don’t-”

“It’s more than okay,” Jake cuts in and the grin he gives fills Mitch with relief and affection. “Show me what you got. I’ll be good for now.”

Mitch’s eyebrow quirks up at “for now” but he doesn’t comment on it. He’s far too busy slowly sliding Jake’s shirt up, leaning in to press a line of kisses up Jake’s stomach as he reveals more and more skin. Jake gives a low, satisfied hum as he settles into the mattress under him, cut short as Mitch’s tongue ghosts over one of his nipples. His hands stop, leaving Jake’s shirt bunched up under his armpits as Mitch continues kissing across Jake’s skin as if he has all the time in the world to do so.

“Shit,” he hears Jake exhale. “Mitch, I need-”

“-to be patient?” Mitch finishes, glancing up at Jake who is doing his best to scowl down at Mitch, though there isn’t any real heat in his expression. “I just want to take my time. Enjoy every bit of you.”

Jake’s expression softens at that, cheeks going pink as he lays his head back down.

“Then keep enjoying, please.”

Mitch does as he’s told, finally easing Jake’s shirt up and over his head and out of his arms, tossing it aside before capturing Jake’s mouth in a kiss. Jake kisses back, but he’s very clearly letting Mitch set the pace, and Mitch can’t help but smile as he pulls away. He unbuttons Jake’s pants, pushing them down just a bit as he kisses back down his chest, over his stomach, stopping at the waistband of Jake’s boxers. He moves away to be able to pull Jake’s pants completely off, and Jake gives a little whine at the loss of contact. Before he can even move Mitch is back, hands trailing up Jake’s legs, dancing over his inner thighs as Jake immediately spreads his legs.

“So eager,” Mitch observes out loud and Jake only responds with a little roll of his hips. To appease him Mitch reaches up, hand ghosting over Jake’s crotch and through the fabric of his underwear Mitch can feel that Jake is already half-hard. 

“It might be fun to tease you like this,” he says, tone casual enough that they could really be having a conversation about anything. He may as well be talking about the weather. Meanwhile Jake is letting out the tiniest little sighs with every light press of Mitch’s hand against him. 

Despite how the idea tempts him (oh god does it tempt him; he can imagine teasing Jake through the fabric until he’s hard and desperate, making Jake buck up against his hand for any kind of relief, any kind of release, and  _ that’s _ an avenue they’ll need to explore eventually, he’s sure of that) Mitch’s own eagerness wins him over and he slips his hands under the waistband of Jake’s boxers, working the fabric slowly down his thighs. 

And then Jake is naked, spread out for Mitch, looking down and biting his lip and it’s better than any fantasy Mitch has ever had. He’s paralyzed with indecision for a moment, a hundred different possibilities for what he could do next or how he wants the night to go flashing through his mind. 

“Mitch,” Jake groans, “please...keep touching me? Please?”

There’s a slight edge to his voice, a hint of desperation that has Mitch running his hands over Jake’s thighs again, trying to soothe him. 

“It’s okay,” he says gently. “I’ve got you.”

_ I’m still here. I still want this. I still want you. _

He wraps a hand around the base of Jake’s cock, and the sigh of relief that Jake gives is music to Mitch’s ears. 

Mark after mark is left on Jake’s thighs as Mitch nips at the skin there, drinking in Jake’s warmth, in how responsive he is under Mitch’s hands. It only takes a few languid strokes before a bead of precum wells up at the tip of Jake’s cock, and Mitch quickly runs his thumb over it. It takes longer for the slide to be as easy as Mitch would like, but that only means he gets to drag Jake’s pleasure out even longer.

Jake is making the loveliest noises, soft little keens with each slide of Mitch’s thumb over the tip of his cock, legs shaking as Mitch keeps him still on the bed with his free hand on Jake’s hip. He pulls back to admire his work, dark marks dotting skin rubbed red with beard burn, and the sight of those paired with the thrill of Jake coming apart under his hands, under his mouth, causes satisfaction to blossom deep within him. 

The urge to just keep going on like this is definitely there, but Mitch doesn’t want Jake’s fun to end so soon. Even if he does look incredible as Mitch glances up to his face, watching Jake bite his knuckles, face turned to the side and digging into his pillow as his other hand grips the sheets under him. 

“Having fun?” Mitch asks as he lets go of Jake’s cock and Jake’s head jerks up, looking at Mitch with a scowl that would be more intimidating if his pupils weren’t blown wide and his breath coming in quick, sharp gasps.

“Why’d you stop?” he asks, before giving Mitch a once-over. “You still have clothes on. Fix that.”

“So demanding,” Mitch says but his smile is fond. “Anything else you want me to do?”

Jake sits up, scooting back until he’s sitting against the dark wood headboard of the bed. He stretches his arms out, draping them over the top of the headboard. 

“I want you to fuck me,” he says, spreading his legs and sending a sharp, hot pulse of arousal straight to Mitch’s gut. “Right here. Like you mean it.”

It doesn’t feel like they’re on a time limit anymore, but Mitch is still quick to do as Jake says. Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting, after all. He feels Jake’s eyes on him as he strips, kicking his pants aside and tossing his shirt in the same general direction as Jake’s. Half of his closet was already on his floor anyway and gosh, he really should have cleaned--

Jake clears his throat, snapping Mitch out of his thoughts and back into the present. He digs through his bedside table, coming up with a bottle of lube (and resolutely ignoring the toy sitting in the back of the drawer, an impulse online purchase after a few too many drinks--something he didn’t use often, only when he felt a deep need to be stretched, to be filled, to imagine  _ Jake  _ filling him up, but maybe Jake wouldn’t mind if he suggested using it some time...) and glancing at Jake as he closes the drawer. 

“Do you want to do the honors?” he says, holding the bottle up, but Jake shakes his head.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to do the work tonight?”

“Since when did you become such a smartass?” Mitch replies. He climbs back on the bed, making his way on his hands and knees to settle between Jake’s legs, a hand on his hip. Jake wraps his arms around Mitch’s shoulders as soon as he’s within reach, pulling him in for a kiss, and Mitch loses himself in the sensation for a while. It feels so real, but worry is still in the back of his mind. Is this all a dream? Will he wake up back in LA, back in their hotel room, back in awkward silence and the distance between them and all of his feelings stuck in his throat, refusing to come out? 

If his hands on Jake grip a little tighter, and the groan he gives a little desperate, he’s glad Jake doesn’t comment on it. 

Jake keeps his arms firmly wrapped around Mitch, even as Mitch breaks their kiss to gasp in a breath. With fumbling hands he uncaps the lube, slicking up his fingers and reaching between them. 

Jake opens for him so easily, so beautifully, his hips almost immediately beginning to move to meet the slow slide of Mitch’s finger into him. 

“So good,” MItch mutters, mostly to himself, as a second finger slides in easily. “So fucking good for me, Jake…”

“More,” Jake whines, and Mitch can’t help but smile. He keeps the pace of his fingers slow and easy, despite the insistent thrust of Jake’s hips.

“Just hold on,” Mitch chides gently. “Don’t want to end it so soon, do you?”

Jake’s head falls forward, and he buries his face in the crook of Mitch’s neck as Mitch eases a third finger in. 

“Maybe I just wanna keep things slow,” Mitch continues as Jake lets out little moans against his skin. “Keep exploring, find what you really like. Take you apart until you’re begging for it-”

Jake cuts him off with a moan, one arm leaving Mitch’s shoulder so he can reach between them and wrap a hand around Mitch’s cock. He’s already pretty hard, everything about Jake has guaranteed that. Jake ignores the low speed Mitch has set for himself, opting instead to take matters into his own hands (pun definitely intended, and if Mitch wasn’t so consumed with other thoughts he would laugh at his own joke). He strokes Mitch hard and fast, clearly trying to get him to pick up his own pace.

“Please,” he says and begging may be a mistake on his part. He sounds too pretty when he begs, Mitch is going to want to keep hearing him sound like that. “Mitch, I need…”

Mitch says nothing, continuing to delicately fuck Jake with his fingers. He curls them a bit, experimenting, and hits a spot in Jake that makes him give a delicious, choked moan. 

“Fuck me,” Jake gasps. “Please, Mitch,  _ please _ , just- Just go faster at least, something, anything-” 

“What do you want?”

“ _ You _ -” Jake tries to speak but is cut off with a groan as Mitch’s fingers curl in him again. “Need you to make it rough. Make it real.”

Mitch pulls back at that, just enough to get Jake to look up at him and meet his eyes. “Hey,” he murmurs, “it’s real, okay? All of this.” He adjusts the pace of his fingers, thrusting harder and pressing in deeper. “I’m here, Jake. I’ve got you.”

Jake nods, looking down. There’s still a nearly-pained desperation in his eyes, and all Mitch wants to do is make it go away. The moment Mitch’s fingers leave him Jake draws his legs up, sliding down just a bit against the headboard, presenting himself to Mitch in a way that’s nearly obscene. Mitch swallows hard at the sight as Jake’s hands move to his waist. 

“I’ve got you,” he repeats, taking his cock in hand and guiding it as he slowly begins to push into Jake. He’s soft and warm and wet, a soothing balm for the need that crawls up Mitch’s spine, the itching of  _ want  _ under his skin. Jake’s nails dig into Mitch’s sides and the sound that he lets out is a growl that Mitch has never heard him make before.

“So fucking beautiful,” Mitch groans as he begins to move his hips, fucking Jake in slow, shallow strokes. “You sound so good for me. Let it out, Jake, let me know how it feels.”

“Good,” Jake whines, hands moving to Mitch’s lower back. He presses down, as if urging Mitch forward. “So good. Need more, please.”

Mitch is happy to oblige, sinking further into Jake with every gentle thrust, until his body is pressed flush against Jake. They’re nearly chest-to-chest, Jake breathing heavily into Mitch’s neck. As much as Mitch wants to touch Jake, for the sake of maintaining their position he has to reach up and grab the headboard behind Jake. 

With the support of the headboard he’s able to pull back and thrust into Jake properly, and if the noises he’s making are any indication Jake appreciates that. The first few thrusts are tentative, trying to find a good rhythm and a good spot to try and hit, until Jake starts to mutter into the crook of Mitch’s neck.

“Can’t believe you want me, Mitch. Can’t believe you love me. Please don’t stop, don’t ever fucking stop…”

Mitch gives a sudden hard thrust into Jake, making him cry out in surprise and pleasure. 

“Of course I love you,” he replies, giving another hard thrust. Jake’s head drops back, mouth dropping open as he lets out a loud moan. 

“How could I not?” Mitch asks, voice strained from trying to hold back noises of his own as he begins to speed up with each thrust. But he needs to say this. Jake needs to hear this. “I fucking wanted you for so  _ long _ , Jake. You’re...fucking perfect.” 

“Mitch,” Jake cries out and he’s staring up at the ceiling and that won’t do. Mitch needs to see him. 

“Look at me,” he nearly growls and Jake does, tilting his head down and meeting Mitch’s gaze. 

“I love you,” Mitch says and it feels so much better to say it this way, looking right into Jake’s eyes without the fear that Jake is going to laugh or hate him. “I love you and I want you and I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me to go away.”

It’s strange, to know that he’s tumbling headfirst into so many feelings so fast without any fear. Past relationships had never moved this fast, and Mitch was never good enough at self reflection to figure out why it took him so long to want to commit to someone. College had been a string of one night stands, while the rest of his adulthood until now has been dry spells interspersed with romances that petered out in a few months. Melissa had been the first one with whom Mitch could imagine a real future for himself, but now…

Anything he’d felt for her couldn’t hold a candle to Jake. 

Jake, who’s been by his side longer than any friend he’s ever had. Who celebrated with him when they graduated college, who comforted him when he found out Mark was dead, who he’s seen on late night benders in bars and on early morning in the booths of diners and on afternoons spent under the desert sun. Jake, who he’s loved for far longer than he can even admit to himself. 

Jake, whose eyes are filling with tears as he clings to Mitch. Mitch feels his stomach drop when he finally sees them, his movements coming to a sudden halt and Jake gives a choked, shuddering gasp.

“Jake?” Mitch asks, taking his face in his hands. “What’s wrong? What did I do? Do you want to sto-”

“No,” Jake says, wrapping his arms around Mitch’s shoulders, keeping him from pulling away. “No, no, please, I-I…” He shakes his head, looking down. “Don’t stop. It’s dumb, ignore me.”

“Kinda hard to do that right now,” Mitch replies, staying completely still. “Jake, I-I don’t know...” 

“This just doesn’t happen,” Jake says quickly, voice barely above a whisper and thick with emotion. “I don’t… The others…” He shakes his head again, trying to pull Mitch closer. 

“It hasn’t felt like this. Since Krissy.” 

Realization begins to dawn in Mitch, and while the fear that he’s fucked up begins to fade the worry is still there.

“Seriously, we can stop.”

“No,” Jake insists, squeezing his eyes shut as tears roll down his cheeks. “I mean it feels...amazing. It feels like you care. And I just-” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “The one night stands were fun but. They didn’t make me feel...loved, is all. I didn’t think it’d feel like this again.” 

Mitch wipes Jake’s tears away with his thumbs, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Jake’s forehead. He’s content to stay there for as long as Jake needs, until his breathing steadies and the tears stop falling and Jake looks at him, eyes rimmed in red. 

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “We can keep going. If I didn’t ruin all the fun.”

“Hardly,” Mitch replies. “You’re really good to keep going?”

Jake nods. “Can you...start moving again?” 

After a moment of hesitation Mitch obliges, and the soft noise Jake gives as he thrusts in again is nearly a sigh of relief. 

“Keep talking,” Jake says. “I-I like to hear it...like to hear you say-”

“I love you,” Mitch cuts in, punctuating each statement with a thrust into Jake. “I do, Jake. I really do.  _ Fuck. _ ” He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep his own composure even though the cocktail of pleasure and need and satisfaction and pure emotion running through him is making it hard to focus on anything beyond just how good Jake feels. “Love you so much. You’re beautiful. You’re amazing. God...I-I love-”

He groans, hands returning to the headboard as a wave of pleasure wracks him. 

“Yes,” Jake whispers as Mitch’s thrusts begin to pick up speed again, “love you too. More than anything, Mitch, p-please...don’t stop...”

Mitch can’t help but feel that Jake isn’t just talking about Mitch stopping the movement of his hips, but that’s a conversation for another time. In this moment Mitch’s pleasure is rapidly beginning to build with each thrust into Jake, and as much as he wishes this could last forever he knows their bodies won’t allow it. 

“Come on,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to Jake’s again. “Show me how good it feels, sweetheart. Show me how much you love it.”

Mitch can tell Jake is getting close, if the sounds he’s making and the way his body is beginning to tense up under Mitch’s is any indication. He’s pulled taut, ready to snap at the slightest pressure, and all Mitch wants to do is watch him come undone. 

“You’re a-amazing,” he stammers, trying to keep a grip on himself, until Jake has finished. “Everything I could want, Jake, more than I ever thought I’d deserve. Oh, god…”

He reaches down, taking Jake’s cock in hand and it only takes a few quick strokes before Jake cries out. He goes completely still, nails digging into Mitch’s shoulders as he clings to him, spilling over Mitch’s hand and his own stomach. Mitch lifts his head and it’s amazing to watch Jake’s face as he loses himself, a faraway look in his eyes, mouth open. He seems unable to breathe for a moment, so consumed by his own pleasure he’s rendered motionless, before crashing back into himself with a loud gasp. His head falls back against the headboard, his body relaxing, though he maintains a strong hold on Mitch’s shoulders, keeping him close. 

“Come for me, Mitch,” is all Jake needs to whisper before Mitch is undone. 

With a final thrust he buries himself in Jake, gripping the headboard so hard his knuckles have gone white. Where Jake was silent and still Mitch is a shuddering mess as he comes, babbling endearments and ‘I-love-you’s as Jake holds him through it, keeping him grounded. 

“I’ve got you,” he hears Jake say. He feels hands running over his back, soothing him, and his heart swells with affection. With love. “That’s it, Mitch. So good for me. So good…”

Mitch leans in for one last, languid kiss before pulling out of Jake. He can’t help a small whine at the loss of sensation, at the loss of connection, but it really would be an uncomfortable way to sleep. 

“Don’t go,” Jake says, exhaustion lacing his voice, and Mitch just offers him a gentle smile. 

“Be right back. I promise.”

True to his word he’s back within minutes, a wet washcloth in hand, and he carefully cleans Jake up. It takes a bit, if only because Jake keeps trying to grab at him and pull him back into bed. Once Mitch is satisfied he allows himself to be pulled, tossing the washcloth aside. 

“Ew,” Jake mutters. “You’re gonna leave that on the floor?”

“You’ve noticed my current standard of living, right?” Mitch replies as Jake curls up against his side, one leg slotted between Mitch’s. 

“Yeah, and we gotta talk about that,” Jake says before giving a big yawn. “In the morning.”

“In the morning,” Mitch agrees. “I promise I’ll clean more if it means you’ll come over more.”

“Solid plan,” Jake mutters. 

All is silent between them for a bit. Mitch can hear Jake’s breathing begin to even out, and he wonders if Jake is even awake as he offers a tentative, whispered “I love you” into the night. 

“Love you too,” is Jake’s barely-audible reply, voice thick with sleep and face pressed against Mitch’s neck. 

Mitch grins and closes his eyes, pulling Jake just a little closer to him before drifting off.

 

* * *

The next day Mitch will wake up to Jake in his arms. He will smile, press a kiss to Jake’s forehead, and slip out of bed. He will want to surprise Jake with breakfast in bed, but will realize when he opens his fridge that he can’t make much besides buttered toast. His backup plan will be to run to the bakery just around the corner from his apartment. He won’t get back before Jake wakes up, but arriving to Jake sitting up in his bed and wearing his shirt is more than okay with him.

Jake will need to get ready for work, and they will pause for a moment before saying goodbye in Mitch’s doorway. Neither will want the other to go. Mitch will lean in and kiss Jake and ask if he wants to grab dinner that night, and Jake will say yes. 

On his own way to work Mitch will pass by a jewelry store. On a whim, he will walk in and buy a ring. Jim and Pam are a textbook fucking relationship, after all.

Mitch will not propose right away, no matter how badly he wants to.

At one month of dating Mitch will give Jake a key to his apartment. At two months Jake will move in, and the place will finally start to feel like home again for Mitch. 

At three months they will have their first big fight. It will coincide with budget cuts making Jake worry for the future of his job and the anniversary of Mark’s death will be looming over Mitch and they will take their own frustrations out on each other. They will say things they don’t mean and Mitch will sleep on the couch. Jake will wake him up in the middle of the night and ask him to come back to bed. Make up sex will not fix all of their problems, but it’s a good place to start. 

Mitch will want to propose on their four month anniversary but he will chicken out. He will also chicken out on their fifth, sixth, and seventh anniversaries. 

On their eight month anniversary, he will plan the perfect proposal. A picnic in the desert. Flowers and champagne. A proposal at sunset. Their date will also coincide with one of the only days in the year when it rains in the desert. 

Tired of waiting and afraid of getting cold feet again, Mitch will propose over a candlelit dinner of Chinese takeout in his living room. Jake will cry and immediately say yes. 

Despite Mitch wanting to have a wedding even bigger and better than Ryan and Melissa’s just to shove their happiness in their faces, Jake’s idea of a modest courtroom ceremony will win. They invite Glenn, of course. Having a smaller wedding means they have more money to spend on their honeymoon, and after a year of saving up they will spend two incredible weeks traveling across Europe. One morning, Jake will take his favorite picture of Mitch in Paris as he stares out at the city from their hotel room, soft and perfect in the morning sun. 

It will take a while, but eventually they will move out of their apartment and settle down in a house of their own. Mitch will want a dog and Jake will want a cat. They will compromise by getting one of each.

Years will stretch before them, many of them easy, but some harder than they ever thought possible. They will lean on each other, on a love neither of them dared to hope for but that somehow still flourished between them. Theirs is a love defined in little moments, in their lives falling into a pleasant routine between the two of them. They will find beauty in mundanity—in cups of coffee and comfortable silence, in sketches and jobs and bills and dinners and date nights, in the times they’re together and the times they’re apart. Their future is not perfect, but it is theirs to share. 

The next day Mitch will wake up to Jake in his arms, and the rest of their lives will begin.

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is a certainly a thing that I wrote. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. <3


End file.
